


The Ultimate Hyrule Honeymoon Vol 6.: The Lover’s Guide to Lurelin

by GourdKin



Series: By the Book [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Beach House, Beach Sex, Cunnilingus, Disability, Disabled Character, F/M, Fluff, Hiking, Honeymoon, Lurelin Village, Miscommunication, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Physical Disability, Porn with Feelings, Rain, Sandcastles, Sign Language, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, plsIWriteTooMuchContext
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GourdKin/pseuds/GourdKin
Summary: Sand, Sun, and the wedding (night) of the century. At this point, you know the drill.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Series: By the Book [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575988
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	The Ultimate Hyrule Honeymoon Vol 6.: The Lover’s Guide to Lurelin

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever written anything that I published in more than one chapter. I'll be honest, it is just too long for me to work on without breaking it up I have a lot of things going on right now, and depending on how I'm feeling writing is either soothing or extra stressful. If you want to read the whole thing in a reasonable amount of time, do not start this yet. I really, really have no idea when part 2 will be done. Please be patient with me and thank you so much for being interested!

Link was going to owe her, possibly for the rest of his  _ life _ . Zelda had that thought first thing in the morning, as her bedroom curtains were rudely wrenched back, far too early for the sleepless night she had just lived through. It wasn’t cold feet about her choice to marry Link or even about the upcoming ceremony. But, there was something about the political circus surrounding their wedding that made Zelda’s guts twist up into knots. It was one thing to plan a wedding, pick the flowers and the guest list, tailor dresses and waistcoats, and practice their first waltz every day for two weeks. It was something else entirely to try and sleep restfully through the night knowing that, by the next, she’d be married to Link.

_ We should have eloped _ , she thought as Urbosa’s crimson halo of hair came into her line of sight and then her warm covers were yanked off.

Zelda, exposed to the brisk spring air, gave a rather undignified squeal and lunged for the blankets. Urbosa held them aloft with her superior height and smirked down at the bedraggled princess and her impressive bedhead. “Someone looks like they had a rough night.” Her tone was impish and, frankly, a little insulting.

“Well, excuse  _ me _ for not jumping out of bed at the crack of dawn.” Zelda wrinkled her nose in performative (and, maybe just a little, real) disdain. “Not all of us are so chipper in the mornings.”

Urbosa laughed deep in her chest, arms still full of bedclothes. Tinkling like a bell behind her, a softer giggle sounded out. Mipha danced into Zelda’s chambers with a small tray of sliced fruit in one hand and Zelda’s pale green dressing gown in the other. Behind her, a small army of maids also filed into the room, carrying other breakfast trays and a small cart and a lot of other things Zelda didn’t want to think about just yet.

The Zora champion handed off Zelda’s dressing gown and perched on the corner of her bed with a peaceful smile gracing her lips. “Seems like her highness might have been a little too excited to really sleep last night.”

That point, Zelda couldn’t really argue. Part of the torture involved with waiting for her wedding ceremony (and the highly-anticipated wedding  _ night _ ) was having to actually sit around and wait. Zelda always thought she was a patient woman, but these last few months had really tested her resolve.

Or maybe it was just Link that felt like a test. They had been a couple for almost a year, shy of just a few short weeks, and Link seemed to rearrange every thought Zelda had ever felt about herself. 

Zelda wiggled to sit against the headboard, drawing her robe tight to fight back the early spring chill and snagged a small handful of wildberries off of Mipha’s tray. She popped one in her mouth and sighed. “You’re right.” She drew up a deeper breath and blew it out noisily, hardly princess-like at all. But, at this moment, with her hair snarled from a night of tossing and turning and faint circles of exhaustion under her eyes, she didn’t have to be anything other than a young woman talking to her friends. “I’m feeling...so much right now. I can’t even describe it.”

Urbosa dumped all her stolen linens on the floor with a soft thump and came to sit cross-legged on the mattress as well. Around them, maids were bustling about with a large copper tube and buckets of water and entirely too many bottles of tonic. Immediately, Zelda felt one of the champion’s wide, comforting palms cup her shoulder. “It’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed on a day like today. A wedding is a huge step in anyone’s life.”

“Even if you love Link,” Mipha said, handing Zelda a slice of red apple, “both of your lives are going to change after today. But, you know what?” She reached out cool fingers to tip Zelda’s head up and gave her another one of those award-winning kind smiles. “We’re all here today to help you get ready for the biggest day of your life. Mentally and physically.”

Zelda smiled back, eyes stinging as she was momentarily overcome with that convoluted emotion again. It was excitement and terror and something else that resonated so deeply in her chest that it was hard to draw in a deep breath. Everyone around her cared  _ so _ much for her, every damn day. For one, fragile moment Zelda thought she was going to burst into tears and cry for the rest of the day. But she  _ couldn’t _ cry. Not yet.

Thankfully, Urbosa broke the heartfelt atmosphere. “And we’ll help you get ready for  _ tonight _ too. I’ve got just the thing up my sleeve to inspire a perfect wedding night. “Although,” she wiggled her crimson eyebrows teasingly at Zelda and then gave a gentle tug on a particular nest of blonde tangles by her ear. “From the look of you, we might be too late for that.” 

“Excuse you!”

Mipha laughed again as Zelda spluttered out an indignant cry in Urbosa’s general direction. “You ought to be used to waking up a little messy by now, your Highness.”

Zelda turned betrayed eyes in Mipha’s direction. “Not you too. It’s my wedding day and I’m never going to make it to the altar. I’ll die from teasing before I get there.”

Mipha handed her some more fruit and a buttery pastry from the tray. “Eat up now, princess, because we’re going to have to skip lunch to have enough time to get you ready. She pulled a hairbrush seemingly out of thin air and passed it off to Urbosa. “Besides, the whole court knows you and Link have been sneaking around for months.”

Suddenly, Mipha’s smile looked a lot less innocent and  _ way _ more sly than Zelda had ever seen before. Zelda blushed this time, real embarrassment instead of a fabricated performance. “Have we been that obvious? I thought we were pretty sneaky.”

Urbosa chuckled from where she now sat behind Zelda, stroking the bristles of a brush gently through her wild mane. “ _ You  _ were subtle enough. Link, on the other hand? Every emotion that boy has ever had can be read like it was written on his face in ink.” She caught a particularly bad snag, apologized under her breath, and started back up again. “Some days he looked like his soul had left his body, he was so happy.”

Zelda felt a pang of loneliness at the mention of her soon-to-be husband and took another pastry to feel something warm in her hands. “We haven’t seen each other since yesterday morning.” She felt an un-princesslike pout starting to form. “Impa is keeping us apart. It’s some kind of Sheikah wedding tradition to separate the bride and groom until they meet at the altar.”

Mipha handed her a few more pieces of fruit and got up to put the tray aside. From the feel of it, Urbosa was all done brushing through the knots in Zelda’s hair and was just brushing it out to shine. “Well, it does have a romantic sensibility to it. The first time Link sees you today will be all done up in your wedding dress. You’re going to look absolutely amazing in the gown, your highness.”

Her cheeks pinking again at the compliment, Zelda slid off the bed to join Mipha, brushing away crumbles that had fallen over her dressing gown. “Yes, we’d better get started.” And looked at her two friends, both grinning with a gleam in their eyes that Zelda wasn’t sure she actually  _ liked _ . “What’s first?”

Urbosa gestured from her sprawl on the princesses’ bed to the tube in the corner, where a chorus of maids stood, armed with soaps and rags on bottles. “Bath time, your highness.” It had been years since someone else had bathed Zelda, but, as her friends had said, everyone was here to help Zelda feel ready for today. 

She looked at one maid wringing a sponge seemingly with malice and felt uneasy.

It couldn’t be that bad.

Zelda realized, as she shed her robe, it  _ could  _ be that bad because her bathwater was absolutely  _ freezing _ . At least she was wide awake now. She said so, with chattering teeth.

Urbosa looked at her, more teasing written plain across her face. “It would have been warm, but a certain princess slept in, then took her sweet time to eat breakfast.”

She looked mournfully at her warm bed and the small book laying open on her bedside table. Zelda couldn’t see it from where she was slowing turning into an icicle, but she knew the vibrant colored pamphlet had a beautiful, hand-drawn ocean scene with the title  _ The Ultimate Hyrule Honeymoon Vol. 6: The Lover’s Guide to Lurelin  _ embossed in curling script. “This water is colder than Lake Kilsie. I can’t wait to get to the beach.”




A breeze fluttered through the loose strands of Zelda’s long hair the moment their carriage crested a small hill. Immediately, Zelda was treated with a bird’s eye view of Lurelin’s quaint huts, the bustling dock, and the breathtaking stretch of crystalline ocean disappearing into the horizon line. She rose up out of her seat and let out a whoop of exuberance. Link’s hand came up to brace against her waist, steadying her as she almost hung out the side of the open-topped coach. Lurelin Village was twice as beautiful as she remembered. All of Faron was. It was so far removed from the wide-open plains of the Central Hyrule and the insistent chill of winter that still clung to the grassy fields.

Zelda had spent the whole trip alternating between basking in sunbeams that slit through the wide-leaf trees bordering their path and watching Link do the same. As always, Link, her lover, her dear, her  _ husband _ , was the most handsome thing she had ever seen. 

She could hardly keep her eyes off him. He sat next to her in the curved body of their small carriage for the entirety of the ride, not an inch of space between them, hands lovingly intertwined without a single barrier. There would never be anything between them again. No fabric, no rules, no differences in class. She wouldn’t let anything separate them like that ever again.

They didn’t talk (though  _ talking _ was never something Link actually did to begin with) as they journeyed the same path through Faron they had taken that fateful summer night almost six months ago. The night of the thunderstorm that Zelda had used to draw Link against her and break down his fragile reservation about a physical relationship. When they passed the small awning they took shelter under that night, Link squeezed Zelda fingers hard enough that she knew just what he was thinking.

But there didn’t seem to be a cloud in the sky for this journey.

Above their little carriage, the sky stretched out endlessly and warm, fragrant jungle breezes danced around them. Link was perfectly happy with the clear weather, from what Zelda could tell from his face. Though, a blissed smile had been his default for hours now. 

Against all odds, Link had been praying to Hylia for a week for clear, sunny weather, a feat not easy to accomplish in the rainy, coastal region of Faron. But he had a list of activities bookmarked in  _ the Lover’s Guide _ for them to do outside all week. In addition to this week being their honeymoon, it was the couple’s first vacation...and possibly the last for a very long time. Link wanted to make the most of it, with fishing and swimming and sailing along the coast. He’d even mentioned taking Zelda for a hike through the ocean cliffside, to look for a special place for lovers. Zelda had teased him gently about it a month ago, using the sign for  _ wild _ and pointing to him as he bookmarked every outdoor activity in the book. 

Zelda was also enjoying the cloudless skies. Clear weather was the best for husband-watching. Then again, so was cloudy weather and rainy weather and that thin, misty weather that made everything blue-tinged earlier in the morning. Any weather was perfect weather when Link was the husband being watched. 

Zelda felt her heart in her throat as she gazed at Link’s soft perfection next to her. He was as dressed down as she’d ever seen, barring some of their more  _ secretive  _ trysts. A wide-necked collared shirt with round gold buttons closed only up to his mid-chest with billowy sleeves and loose linen pants. Similarly, Zelda was dressed to combat the hot weather. But, on Link, simplicity and informality were always breathtaking. It gave his artisan features the proper chance to shine. The chiseled angles of his jaw and musculature contrasting with the soft lilt of his full mouth and the precious points of his ears. His hair spilled dark gold and glittering as they moved through sunbeams in the jungle.

It was Link’s eyes that Zelda always found most devastating. With no complex garments to distract, he would gaze back at her with eyes like her own personal ocean, cerulean, and swirling with earthy flecks of brown that could only be seen from as close as Zelda was and trimmed in eyelashes so dark they almost looked black. He was heart-throbbingly beautiful and, this time, she could reach out and touch him.

And she did.

Finally, she brushed light, tender touches across the plains of his cheeks, a thumb against the corner of his beautiful eyes, and squeezed their fingers together tightly. For once they could brush together, lovingly, without regard for any watchful eyes.

Zelda turned away fully from the approaching ocean view back to her personal pools of endless water that lived in Link’s iris and reached out for him again. Not to feel his skin this time. Instead, She reached for the one accessory adorning her husband.

Atop his golden head sat an equally gold circlet, almost buttery in the soft afternoon sunlight of Faron. It was simple and of a studier design than any of Zelda’s crowns, but it wasn’t any less beautiful. It curved over his forehead and left a beautiful blue gem resting on his brow, peeking out through his fluffy bangs.

Overcome with emotion at the sight of his consort crown as she’d been multiple times throughout their journey, Zelda leaned into her lover. She felt more than saw the twist of his fingers between them as he signed a small  _ I love you  _ against her. 

Link braced her waist tighter in his hands and they kissed, chastely on the mouth once and then again, as Zelda pulled back to thread her fingers through his sparkling, blond hair. She skated her lips against his brow bone and then brushed another kiss against the small gem, disturbing his bangs with her breath.

♢

If the scrubbing was malicious, then the hairpulling Zelda was enduring was just plain merciless. By the time the maids had wrung out her hair and finished forming it into intricate braids, Zelda’s scalp ached. It made no sense. Every time Link gave a slight tug on her hair during one of their hidden trysts, Zelda just about melted. Liquid heat would pool between her legs, so much that she would feel her thighs get a little slick, and her breath would catch under Link’s hands. Instead, this experience was absolutely awful. 

They shaved every inch of her in the tub, leaving behind miles of silky smooth legs and only the hair that grew from her head. Though she threw a fit when they brought a razor near her mound. She managed to keep a small patch of blonde hair there (for courtesy). After her bath, the maids had sat Zelda in a plush chair in front of her vanity to shiver.

Not that Link seemed to have any reservations about body hair. He was covered in a layer of downy, gold hair across his arms and legs and the soft trail under his naval that Zelda always spent a moment to brush her fingers over before reaching into his trousers. (That and brushing her knuckles across the hard ridges of muscle that made up his abdomen.) He would sometimes get a coarse layer of bristles on his cheeks and jaw that burned sweetly against Zelda’s softer face when they kissed. And he was just as accepting of her own hair, running fingers over the light blond on her thighs or burying his nose in the curls above her pussy.

The shave was what finally brought Zelda into reality. Her wedding was  _ today _ and she was marrying Link, the man of her dreams, and she had shaved from head to foot in preparation for her one-and-only wedding night. 

She rubbed her smooth calves together and tried to ward off some shivers as maids worked with her hair, Mipha assisting with commentary and handing the ladies pins as needed. She noticed the goosebumps on the princess’ arms.

“Cold?”

Zelda slanted her eyes in Mipha’s general direction, for fear of moving her head wrong and getting a yank wrong. Regardless, she got a pin pushed a little too hard into her scalp for her trouble. “No…” All Zelda had on was another thin, silky robe. But any movement might mess up the complex origami going on atop her head and she really didn’t want to start this whole process over again. 

Urbosa weighed in from where she was twisting a silent princess together with some safflina that she brought in from the gardens for some reason or another. Her eyes were wrinkled with teasing mirth. “Excited, then?”

“For my wedding? Of course.”

“How about  _ after _ the wedding?”

Zelda was done with being teased. Ignoring the tug at her tender scalp, she straightened her spine, adding a mere inch to her height. The goal was a regal, diplomatic appearance. Her following statement was anything but. “Fine, I’ll say it out loud so you can’t tease me anymore.  _ Yes _ , I am excited to finally have sex, real in-a-bed, penetrative sex with my  _ husband _ .”

A chorus of laughter sounded out around her. Mipha giggled her sweet laugh and Urbosa gave a full-body roar. Even the handmaidens behind her chuckled quietly. 

It felt good to make others laugh, even if she was the butt of the joke. It wasn’t mean laughter, so Zelda was perfectly comfortable with joining in. All of the stress she had carried around for months seemed to bleed right out of her. Now, she was excited. Only excited. She wanted to finish this and put on her dress and sprint down the aisle to Link’s arms. “How much longer is this going to take?” The sun was already climbing its way into the sky and the ceremony was set for noon sharp. 

“We just finished.” Mipha handed her a wide hand mirror and turned Zelda’s chair at an angle so she could have a glance at the back of her head.

She was stunned. Maybe all of the torture her scalp endured was worth it, in the end, if she came away looking like this.

Zelda’s hair was long her whole life, to suit her regal princess-persona. She often thought about cutting it off to her chin (or even shorter) when it frustrated her most, but she kept it long. As a princess, it fit her image to have it fall gracefully down her back or twisted up in a sensible bun. Link seemed to like it long, to run his hands through, but maybe he would like it looser more often, in a flirty bob or something. That didn’t matter right now, though, because Zelda currently possessed many inches of long, pale hair to work with. And the maids had done wonders with it.

The style itself was relatively simple, just two braids on both sides of her tucked into a low bun, but the work was so intricate. The plaits twisted into themselves and fluffed perfectly, almost like little blonde flower petals. At the front, they’d left a few long strands to flutter around her face while the majority was pulled back, reminiscent of her preferred casual hairstyle. Small clear crystals sparkled on the tips of the dozens of pins they’d wedged into her hair. The entire effect was ethereal like she was a goddess instead of a mere princess.

Urbosa came into Zelda’s view of her reflection.

“I have more one thing.” She held up the silent princess she’d been fiddling with and moved to tuck it behind Zelda’s hair, right at the start of the braid. It glittered subtly in the mid-morning light, just a shiny pale blue that was complemented by the darker petals of blue safflina tucked around it. It dripped with soft, twisting greenery that brought out Zelda’s own emerald eyes. She looked at Urbosa, throat tight with emotion.

“This...it’s perfect.” Zelda watched her own face twist with emotion in the mirror before she settled on a bright, thankful smile to her two dearest friends.




Zelda gave the small crowd her most winning smile from the steps of the carriage. She could feel Link’s solid presence at her back, pressing hotly into her shoulder. “Thank you so much!” She said as she accepted a small bouquet of silent princesses from an older man. The grandfatherly man smiled up at her, brown skin wrinkling pleasantly around his eyes and deep smile lines etched into his face. “These are lovely.”

Their welcoming party was incredibly small. Most of the people of Lurelin had business to attend to and couldn’t drop everything to welcome a honeymooning couple, even if they were royalty. Regardless, they received a warm greeting from a small collection of the elderly, children who looked at the princess and her knight-turned-consort with starry eyes, and house spouses who would come to peek at the commotion before dodging back into their homes.

A small turnout was fine with Zelda. She didn’t need to be worshipped by anyone other than her husband (an activity she enjoyed returning in-kind) and, well, a smaller crowd was always easier to get rid of. 

They said their goodbyes to the sweet villagers and set off to a secluded ring of straw cottages. Zelda would go as far as calling them bungalows. There were multiple “honeymoon huts”, but Link and Zelda wouldn’t have any neighbors this week. Instead, the crown had rented out the entire resort, so that the royal newlyweds could have as much...private time as they needed.

This week, it was just the sand, the sun, miles of crystal blue water, and Link.

As if sensing her impatience, Link scooped his wife up the moment the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the largest hut, obviously prepped especially for the royal guests with all the curtains opened to sway in the balmy breeze and small arrangements of flowers, shells, and delicate pieces of driftwood edging the deck rails. Zelda flailed in his arms for the small leather bag separate from the rest of their luggage as Link honored tradition by carrying his wife up the steps and across the threshold. Zelda giggled wildly from her perch against Link’s chest.

Link kicked the flimsy wooden door shut behind him and, for the first time, they were alone. Fully, truly alone, without any court rules or secret overtures or--thinking back to their relationship as guard-and-princess over a year ago--any unresolved pining. 

They stared at each other, both shadowy figures at first as their eyes adjusted to being inside. It was unclear who moved first, but all of a sudden Link and Zelda were kissing. She sunk her hands into his loose hair and felt his own fist just as tightly in the fabric of her sundress. None of the tender, caring chaste kisses they’d shared since the ceremony or even the passionate, heartstopping kiss at the altar that had changed Zelda’s life could compare. She pulled back to gasp once, breathless, and Link took advantage of her open mouth to slip his tongue behind her teeth. If those earlier kisses were warming, like a candle lit at night, this kiss was a bonfire. Link was setting her alight with his tongue. It felt like she might blister. 

Zelda was so caught up in the clever little flicks of her Link’s tongue and finally being able to run her hands over every glorious inch of her  _ husband _ that she didn’t even register movement until he threw her on the soft bed. 

The bed shook with the sudden, harsh addition of her weight but held firm. The  _ Lover’s Guide _ boasted that the “Honeymoon Huts” were a sleeping experience like no other and Zelda was eager to see just how true that statement was. Instead of the simple hammocks common in Lurelin, these beds were much sturdier, like a real mattress and frame, but with some kind of suspension mechanism so that it swayed gently. Like the soft bobbing of a boat cresting the waves. 

Zelda felt a twitch of curiosity for the engineering behind such a concept before all thought was promptly moved out of her head forever, as Link leaned over her where she kneeled on their wedding bed and reached for the ties of her leather sandals. She sat up higher to press a kiss onto his mouth, taking advantage of his split focus to suck at his full lower lip.

Shoes tossed to the floor, they made out like a pair of teenagers for some indescribable amount of time. Zelda straight-backed with her knees pressing into the mattress and Link stooping his golden head to properly kiss her back. They were entwined, not an inch between them, hands moving, petting across skin that had been off-limits for months. The light of the room stretched golden around them, that late afternoon sun a warm embrace second only to her lover’s.

They traded breath and spit and soft, nonsensical words pressed into each other’s skin with shaking fingers. Over the course of time, their kissing built, swept Zelda up in a current that she couldn’t escape and never wanted to, and then broke, gentling like the tickling rush of the tides brushing against her ankles from the shore. She kissed Link back with all of the emotion that had built up in her heart since the ceremony, in the days before when they’d been too busy to properly see each other, in the tense months of their engagement, since Zelda had first met Link. She kissed him with everything she had.

But nothing perfect lasted forever. 

A sudden clap of thunder broke the newlyweds apart. Rain was just a simple fact of Faron’s climate, but Zelda still felt a pang of irritation at the interruption.

Link looked flushed and Zelda could only imagine how she must have looked, disheveled from her touch with hot, bruised-looking lips. His hair was rumpled artfully and pride spread in Zelda's chest.  _ That was her handiwork. _ He swiped his tongue across his upper lip and Zelda almost pulled him back to her (plans be damned). But doing that would mean weeks of hard work and blackmailing Urbosa would go to waste. 

“ _ I should go”... _ he signed, looking as reluctant as she felt, “ _ and grab the luggage. Keep the rain out. And...the horses.” _

Zelda sat back on the mattress, breathing hard, and smiled up at her beautiful husband. She let go of his soft shirt and flexed her fingers into signs along with her words. “Sure thing, dear. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.” A more mischievous thought crossed her mind and she leaned back on the mattress, letting the hem of her dress slide up to expose her thighs. Link’s eyes were drawn instantly to the smooth skin. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

He dipped his head in a distracted nod and ran out the door like a keese out of hell.

For about ten seconds, Zelda just breathed on the bed, her heart still pounding in her ears. And then she was up, frantically searching for the bag that Urbosa had personally stocked and Mipha tucked behind the princess at the Temple of Time as she hugged her goodbye. She found it dropped into the small potted palm tree by the door, completely forgotten in the couple’s rush to get their hands on each other.

Zelda emptied the contents on the ruffled bed and immediately started to strip out of her dress. Link was frighteningly efficient when he set his mind to it and nothing was more embarrassing than getting caught making a fool of herself trying to put on complicated lingerie.

And complicated it was.

It was a navy blue affair, so deep it rivaled purple in the right light. The delicate lace looked like a spill of ink across the pristine white sheets. The panties were simple enough, barely a scrap of fabric for her to slide over her hips that left her feeling more bare than if she were completely naked. (Zelda assumed that was the intended effect.) The brassiere was where she ran into trouble and could really use the extra hands of the man she was racing to surprise. Black straps crisscrossed her back in a pattern reminiscent of layered flower petals. The front also had to be laced together to push her bust together attractively, but the navy, eyelet lace was too slippery to get a good grip on.

All of that struggle paled in comparison to what Zelda went through trying to get the sheer, black stockings up her leg. The first went up easily, but she almost slipped and broke her neck trying to balance on one sleek foot. Sitting on the swaying mattress helped, but then she gingerly rose again, wiggling into the black garter belt. It was decorated with perfect lace flowers on the sides and Zelda used a focus she only reserved for science experiments to carefully attach the metal clips to the belt without tearing any lace. Only to realize after she fitted the contraption in place she needed to clip them  _ under  _ her panties and having to start all over again.

She barely managed to put herself together and sprawl across the bed in a manner that was remotely sexy when the door opened up again.

The rain must have started in earnest while Link was gone because he came inside dripping water everywhere, the shoulders of his shirt transparent, and carrying entirely too many things at once (like always). When he spotted Zelda on the bed, he dropped literally everything in his hands, all of their luggage falling to the floor with a wet slap. 

Zelda brought one hand up to form a greeting, lips parting, but Link was on her before she could even get out more than a squeak.

She could feel drops of water on her collarbones and then Link was reaching out with hot, calloused hands and ensnared her knees in a solid grasp. He yanked her legs up and apart, bracketing the wide berth of his shoulders with her stockinged feet. Zelda gasped for breath, barely caught up with her new position, bent double with her wild husband looking up at her hungry from between her thighs as he petted his fingers over the silky feeling of the stockings on her calves.

This was exactly what she wanted. Zelda leaned back and raised her hands into Link’s line of sight, making sure he could clearly see her signs. “Told you I’d be waiting here. Do you like your surprise?”

In lieu of answering, Link just ducked his golden head and pressed an opened mouthed kiss to her clothed pussy, inhaling over the fabric already damp from Zelda’s anticipation for this very moment. The sensation of his mouth, hot and wide over her though such a thin layer of lace, pulled a startled moan out of her. She wasn’t expecting  _ such _ a strong reaction, but Zelda wasn’t a fool. She knew exactly what her thighs did to Link and she practically gift-wrapped them for her consort’s enjoyment. 

He suckled at the lace flowers over her cunt, hands clutching her hip bones just shy of pain, and Zelda struggled to collect her thoughts. She had a sexy speech planned out for Link, with weeks spent in the library researching the right signs and practicing secretly in her room. But, now, she couldn’t even get one word out. Couldn’t even think over the hot onslaught of Link’s mouth between her thighs. Instead, she withered on the mattress, letting out a tiny “ah” that Link could probably barely hear. 

Link pulled back and used his thumb to peel navy lace away from her wet cunt and shove it to the side, but the panties were too tightly stretched over Zelda’s ass to budge much. A disgruntled crease formed between his fine, blond brows.

Zelda finally managed to catch her breath and thanked Hylia for the respite, even if her husband looked frustrated between her legs. She shifted, putting a little arch into her hips, intending to remove her panties and maybe the brassiere as well, leaving the stockings on, of course, for her lover’s enjoyment. Why not indulge him for their first time? Zelda tried to reach her fingers up and sign, “Hold on. I can take-”

Link’s hands on her hips, bunched up in the lace over her hips once, testingly and before Zelda could even get the rest of her sentence out, he was pulling the fabric apart as easily as if it was made of paper. Link held up two fistfuls of inky blue lace and let the scraps flutter uselessly down to the bed. Before now, Zelda was never exposed to Link like this, black-clad legs splayed wide, long blonde hair spread out around her on the bed. Link raked his eyes over her so scandalously it almost felt like touch and then a hungry grin split his face. In that second, Zelda felt like praying.

He was still completely dressed in the casual vacation clothes she picked out just for him, but, if she ignored the context, it wasn’t hard to picture her lover in the wild. Like a beast that had pinned its dinner and was just waiting for the perfect moment to take a bite. But Zelda had planned her capture and strung the trap herself, served herself up on a platter to be eaten.

And eat he did.

Link looked his fill and then used his breathtaking strength to flip her casually over onto her hands and knees. This position certainly helped her breathe easier, but it was also a million times more exposed. He had a face full of her plump behind and then Link used his elbows to knock her knees open wide, putting a deep stretch into her lower back and spreading her pussy perfectly for him to slip his tongue in deep.

Licking into her like she was a frozen treat on a hot day, Link stroked his hands over her smooth legs, paying special attention to the hem of the stocking where it bit into the flesh at the top of her thighs and squeezing hard. He speared her with his tongue so deep she felt it in her very soul. Then he used his hot, rough hands to palm the cheeks of her ass and then set about kneading the soft muscle like a happy cat.

Below him, Zelda was stretched out wider than any yoga pose Impa had ever twisted her into. “L-link. Ah...m-my! Please, love. I-I need you to-” she gasped little words of endearment and cried out encouragement. She knew Link couldn’t see any hand sign she made buried down between her legs like he was so she didn’t even bother making any. Her own noises and the nonsense that spilled from her mouth made herself hot. The sound of the thunderstorm pelting down around them barely provided any cover at all.

As if sensing her pleas through a divine will, Link pulled one of his hands off her ass and separated his mouth from her buzzing, clenching cunt. Zelda heard a wet sucking noise and then the blunt tip of his thumb was pressing up into her, curved shallowly and pressing up toward her pubis. Zelda slumped, hips held aloft only by one of Link’s strong arms encircling her waist. As he licked at her lower lips and around his thumb buried inside her, she saw stars so vividly it might as well have been night time. Zelda fisted the sheets under her, desperate for anything to hold onto. 

“Link…” Zelda moaned louder than she ever had during one of their secret rendezvous. It felt better than any of those ever did too. “Yes, r-right there!”

Then Link pushed her hips up higher, buried his head deeper between her thighs, and drew the flat of his burning wet tongue against her clit. Link licked back and forth over her clit and then pressed up with his thumb to meet it and that was it for her. Zelda’s world went upside down and she thought she heard herself cry out, but she couldn’t be too sure with all the blood rushing through her ears. It felt like being flayed open, like being devoured with no escape. 

She came back to herself gradually, whimpering and sticky everywhere, but especially between her shaking thighs. Panting like she just ran a gauntlet, Zelda collapsed on her front. The brassiere was pressed uncomfortably into her ribs and straps everywhere were digging in. She probably tore her stockings in all of her thrashing. But all of that was second in her need to get her hands on her husband, on Link.

By the time they got all of the clothes off between the two of them (after all of that Link was still  _ fully _ dressed, shoes and all), Zelda figured she would be ready to go again and all the way this time.

But, when Zelda pulled herself up to reach for her husband, Link jerked away. Late afternoon sunbeams broke through the stormclouds outside and streaked across his face, putting a spotlight on the red, worked skin of his lips. He almost threw himself off the bed and rushed toward the cottage-hut’s bay windows. 

_ “It stopped raining,” _ He signed quickly at her, manic enthusiasm clear in fingers that shined with her own wetness. “ _ Let’s go for a swim before it gets dark.” _ And then he rushed over to their bags, left completely unsatisfied.

♢

The most satisfying part was watching everything come together. Zelda felt like a fool standing in front of a mirror with perfectly styled hair, a glossy balm spread over her lips, and her simplest of shifts. It was like she was playing dress-up again, just a young girl when her mother would play with her hair and give her too-big, fancy dresses to trip around the nursery in. She used to pretend to be a queen, in someone else’s finery. 

Now, the fancy dress was her own. As Zelda was assisted into the cool, ivory silk of her wedding dress, there was a sense of something greater happening just under the surface. Greater than the ceremony or the court-official marriage certificate that was waiting in her father’s office. In less than an hour, she would walk down the aisle and start a brand new chapter of her life in this very dress. 

Of all the nitpicking aspects of the wedding, it was the gown that was the hardest to settle on. Zelda and Impa and the court seamstress argued for  _ days _ on the design. It wasn’t like she  _ wanted _ to be a high-maintenance bride, but there was no way Zelda would get married in a gown she hated. Adversely, Impa and the seamstress had very different concerns. Her thoughts soured as she remembered all of the arguments she endured.

“I don’t care what you say,” Zelda huffed, months ago, seated at a table in the banquet hall that they commandeered for wedding planning. She gave the women before her a scathing look, “It’s my wedding and I refuse to look like a stuffed Cucco.” 

The royal seamstress looked properly chastened over her outrageous design sketch, a tiered ball gown decorated entirely with Cucco feathers, but Impa, the stone-cold witch she was, barely looked affected.  _ Drat _ .

“If your Highness is going to throw the biggest court function of the year, she should certainly dress like it,” Impa began. “I’ll not have those lords and ladies nattering behind our backs.”

And she did have a point. In fact, court etiquette was the root of every ounce of stress in Zelda’s life. It was the entire reason she hadn’t eloped with her wonderful soon-to-be husband and indulged in the steamy tropical honeymoon of her wet dreams. A few days back, Link had fished  _ another _ book out of the library, much to Zelda’s shock,  _ The Ultimate Hyrule Honeymoon Vol 6.: The Lover’s Guide to Lurelin _ , and gestured wildly to Zelda about a vacation on the coast. Zelda was just touched that he seemed so excited and had to admit to herself that the beach  _ did _ sound nice. __

But, before that, Zelda wasn’t going to let some stuffy court bastards tar-and-feather her at her own wedding. She put on a steely face, all level politician-like as she’d practiced. “Since it’s such a big deal, shouldn’t my wedding dress set the trends instead of the other way around?”

At that line of reasoning, Impa seemed much more open to persuasion. The seamstress even loosened up some, offering her crucial eye to suggest cuts that would flatter the princess’s body type. Even in agreement, it took them days to settle on a design and weeks after that for fittings.

But, as Zelda watched herself stepping into a waterfall of ivory, it proved to be worth it.

She gasped as a maid closed all the pearl buttons of her bodice and not because the garment was too tight. In fact, it fit just right, the tailoring absolutely perfect all the way down to the cut of her trailing sleeves. They brushed against the backs of her hands and then flared in a cut like a blooming flower almost to her knees, with a curious white-on-white embroidery of traditional sheikah patterns on the edges. 

Those sleeves swung as Zelda reached a hand up to tap at the corner of her eyes, feeling teary at the sight of herself. Zelda wasn’t much for formal gowns, preferring her appearance in practical and understated clothing. It said more about her character as a serious princess (soon-to-be queen) to avoid the gaudy trends of court fashions. But even she couldn’t deny her own splendor, in a dress like this.

The neckline was modest, allowing for just a hint of her collarbones to show, but cut straight across, leaving her shoulders bared to the air. She could feel every slight breeze ghost across the exposed skin of her back as well, because of the sweeping v-cut of the gown’s collar in the back.

The skirt was fluted, where the bodice was tight and fitted. It rippled and swayed with the slightest of movement from Zelda and the simple stretch of silk was so high-quality it looked glossy in the mirror’s reflection. Zelda would spare the time to be mesmerized by it, but it didn’t hold a candle to the train.

Mipha and Urbosa were misty-eyed throughout the whole dressing process, but Zelda watched them shed real tears as the maids unfurled the gown’s train and laid it delicately at Zelda’s feet, pooled to stay out of the way, but displaying the majestic needlework that had gone into the embroidered hemline.

Zelda felt like her life was stitched into the silk before her. The royal crest stylized as the center, a triforce of interwoven blues, greens, and reds, with a Loftwing embroidered in pale gold threads. The sprawling set of wings melted seamlessly into a stitched field of Zelda’s favorite flowers. Blue nightshade done with frosty, iridescent threads to mimic the flower’s bioluminescence, and cool safflina a darker, almost purply contrast. In the greatest abundance, though, were silent princesses. The detail was so immaculate, they almost looked like the ones laying on the table in her bouquet. The gradient on the petals from bright Hylian blue to pale ivory almost made it seem like the dress was composed of sewn-together flowers.

Looking at herself, at the way she fit into the cut of her dress, and the painstaking detail put into it, Zelda felt her stomach flip.

All of a sudden, Zelda wasn’t sure if she was ready to get married. She wanted to skip all of the steps and be with Link forever and love him with all her heart. But  _ marriage _ was so much more than that. They would get married in front of the entire temple and the eyes of Hylia and they would place a consort circlet on Link head and then Zelda would be crowned queen within the week of returning from their honeymoon. They only had a week to themselves before their lives were going to be overrun with running a country together. 

While the crowd helping her dress all morning were ‘ooo’ing and ‘ahh’ing, Zelda felt herself go weightless as she looked at her reflection. Zelda had been trained to become queen her entire life and she would always have help, from her friends and advisors and her even her father’s decades of wisdom. Politicking was one thing, marriage was entirely different. Her breath started speeding up in her chest and the damp feeling in her eyes wasn’t just awe anymore. She knew what it was like to be a queen, but Zelda realized she had no  _ idea _ how to be a wife.

She didn’t know she was ready to be a wife yet. In fact, all she knew she was ready for was a panic attack and maybe lunch.

Zelda didn’t know the first thing about being married or what it really meant to be a  _ wife _ . This wasn’t like an experiment that she could try again with different conditions until she got it right. And she couldn’t ask anyone else either! Well, she could and their advice would probably be great, but everyone’s relationships were different. She had just one chance at this one and, what if she screwed it up entirely?

Making eye contact with her own green-eyed reflection, Zelda flipped back and forth between excitement and mind-numbing panic until the heavy sound of her chamber doors opening pulled her out of her reverie. 

Her father, dressed in the grandest of his finery for his daughter’s most special day, stopped in his tracks when he saw her. Zelda hoped it was at the sight of her breathtaking wedding gown, but, from the soft way his eyes held her under his great furry eyebrows, she knew he could see right through her. King Rhoam stepped right up to Zelda, careful of the silk pooling at her feet, and enfolded her in an embrace like he hadn’t done in years. 

“My dear flower, you look magnificent.” He pet the side of Zelda’s face with his big, rough hands and smiled down at her, his beard warping funnily and tickling her shoulder where she was tucked into his side. “As beautiful as your mother was the day I married her. That knight is a lucky man.”

In her father’s warm arms, Zelda cracked a watery smile. If anyone knew anything about a successful marriage, it would be Rhoam. Even after Zelda’s mother passed, he held so much love for her that it was still written across his face at the mere mention. Just like being a ruler, if she ever needed advice she could talk it out with him.

Another sniffle and Zelda answered back, “He’s not just any knight, dad. He’s the captain of the guard, remember?  _ You _ swore him in.” She turned a teasing, slanted look to Rhoam. She felt thousands of times better already. “Or has your memory finally started to leave us?”

He looked relieved when Zelda finally smiled and moved to tuck her under his arm. They hurried to the door. They had a royal carriage to catch, for a short ride across the plains to the Temple of Time, where the ceremony would take place. They couldn’t really  _ hurry _ with yards of embroidered silk trailing behind them, so it felt almost like they were on a father-daughter stroll like the ones they took years ago.

“I might have forgotten that your Link was more than a new recruit,” Rhoam continued their banter, “I just saw him before the groomsmen set out and he looked almost seasick.”

At that, Zelda let out a full-bodied laugh. If her own nerves were acting up, she could only imagine how Link’s were doing. And she almost felt like crying again with laughter at the thought of his friends or, even worse, Daruk or  _ Revali  _ trying to comfort him.

Outside, the sun was high in the sky, shining down in the plains like the light of Hylia Herself. King Rhoam extended a hand to help his daughter balance as she stepped around her skirt into the carriage. Once she was settled, he took a seat across from her with a more trepidatious look on his face.

“He did look awfully queasy…are you  _ sure _ the beach is the best place for your honeymoon?”




Zelda laughed out loud (the ugly honking kind that she hated to do in public) at Link’s antics. He was going to get sand in his shorts again and Zelda would  _ have _ to make fun of him on the walk back to the cottage. Teasing her husband, she found, was one of the most important duties of a wife. 

They spent the first few days of their honeymoon swimming in the ocean, at their private slice of the beach by the Honeymoon Huts, or with other tourists using places recommended by the  _ Lover’s Guide _ . It was the most playful Zelda had ever seen Link. He could swim like a fish, doing laps across the length of the beach in almost no time flat. It meant there was no way Zelda could escape if she splashed him in the face. He’d use his powerful muscles to snatch her right out of the water and catapult her yards off into clear blue waves, hefting her body like a sack of flour.

Or they would just float together in the briny sea. Zelda would curl around Link, taking a break from paddling and using her legs to cling like a limpet as he did all the hard work keeping their bodies afloat. It was terribly seductive to press her skin against Link’s and be completely weightless as they bobbed in the ocean. Even in the brisk spring waves, Link was tantalizingly warm against her.

But one can only swim for so long and now the waterlogged newlyweds were making sandcastles in the shade of a palm tree as the sun beatdown overhead. They started with a scale model of Hyrule castle but quickly moved on to fantastical structures that defied the laws of gravity in their construction. Zelda didn’t want to admit it, but Link was much better than her at it. Oh, she had him beat in terms of fortitude, what with her years of architectural study, but his vision was much more artistic with steady enough hands.

And those skills were getting him in trouble as he looked for pretty shells to use as adornments and got snipped at by a crab for his trouble.

Link slunk back to Zelda, nursing a hurt little finger with an exaggerated pitiful pout. Zelda had never seen Link pull puppy dog eyes before, but she thought watching him bat those bright eyes at her in mock-sadness was possibly the cutest thing  _ ever _ .

She gestured for Link to join her on the towel and kept the hand up to sign along with her words. “Maybe enough with the amateur architect hour?”

Link nodded solemnly and plopped down next to her, squirming until his head was in her lap. He tugged insistently on one of Zelda’s hands until she started to stroke his forehead, like the sweetest of lapdogs.

That was how they were this vacation. For every moment they played, there were another five where they just rested together comfortably. 

Before Lurelin, neither Zelda nor Link were allowed much time to relax. On top of her regular princess duties and preparing to take over the throne, Zelda planned the wedding ceremony and highly political reception to perfection. Not to mention the last experiments she put the finishing touches on before her week-long stint away from her lab. Link was just as busy, as captain of the guard (a title he retained after becoming consort as well), and spent his days overseeing soldier training.

With Impa keeping them apart and their packed schedules, Link and Zelda didn’t get to sneak off together even to make out in the entire month before the wedding. 

This was why, on their honeymoon, Zelda was becoming increasingly frustrated with her new husband’s  _ game _ . They were finally free of the stupid courting rules (most of which Zelda blatantly ignored anyway) with the freedom and privacy to do whatever they wanted to each other after so long. 

Yet, for some reason, Link just  _ wouldn’t _ sleep with her.

They were having sex, of course. Good luck getting Zelda to ever keep her hands off of her gorgeous husband. She couldn’t even manage that when it was strictly forbidden. But they’d been married and away from prying eyes for over three days and they still haven’t had sex the good ole fashioned way. Every time they would get close to the full-fledged intercourse part of sex, Link would panic and come up with some kind of excuse.

The beach excuse after the lingerie failure (as Zelda privately referred to it).

_ “There’s a ranch in town _ ,” he signed when Zelda brought breakfast to bed and ate jam off of his rough fingers their first morning, “ _ Why don’t we go visit the cute cows?” _

After she snuck into his bath and rubbed her wet chest against his back and wrapped a sudsy hand around his cock, he pulled out the big guns. “ _ I heard about a large ancient artifact a few miles outside of the village. Why don’t we go check it out?” _

She loved Link to bits and pieces, but seriously, what the hell?

This was supposed to have ended with the wedding. He was her  _ consort _ , a royal title literally made for the person the queen was fucking. It was driving Zelda up the wall, and she was about five minutes from any given time from pantsing Link and throwing herself into his lap and riding him as she fantasized for months. She would if she thought she could actually sneak up on him like that.

As the sun started to hand low in the sky, they finally separated. Link was excited to cook dinner, some seafood and rice recipe he got from a lady in the village. They ate the seafood paella there on the beach, right out of the pan he cooked it in, sitting on a large checkered blanket next to the fire. It was delicious and filling, but, even with a full belly, Zelda’s stomach was starting to feel hollow.

Maybe Link didn’t want to have sex with her at all? She heard some people just weren’t into penetration though she thought it was mostly women. But stereotypes didn’t mean anything. In fact, Zelda didn’t even know if she would like it herself. It was not like she had a bunch of experience with past lovers. Zelda liked her own fingers and liked Link’s blunt, warm ones even better and felt shivers run down her spine at the sheer thought of sinking down his cock. 

They were both nervous, but, as long as they were nervous together, they could figure it out together.

Zelda turns her gaze out at the horizon before them, the ocean stretching out calmly and endlessly. The sun was setting like fire atop the water, mirrored in the still water, and painting everything in deep orange light with streaks of purple clouds. It seemed like Hylia had her paintbrushes out this evening and the breathtaking view was enough for Zelda to steel herself. She could talk to her husband about anything.

Just one glance at Link was enough to shut her up almost immediately. After a long day of playing in the sand and waves, they had both settled into soft sets of cotton clothes, almost matching in their simplicity. Just some cream-colored tunics and shorts. Their honeymoon, so far, was all about simplicity, as they dressed down together every day for the first and, possibly, last time in a very long time. If they were dressed the same, why did Link look so unfairly gorgeous?

He sprawled next to her with lazy crossed legs, his torso leaned back to watch her pensively brood over her dinner. The smile quirking his lips was devastating and Zelda felt that tremor run down her spine again, the one that made her want to pounce. 

But she had something to do and not even her  _ incredibly _ handsome husband would distract her.

“Link…” she began slowly, not needing to get his attention, but not sure what to do with it so quickly. “Now that we’re married...we can-”

And then Link actually cut her off, snagging her signing hand out of the air and then reeling her into his lap. She had about two seconds to see his own hands twisting out, “ _Beautiful_. _You’re beautiful._ _Like the Goddess herself, backlit before the sun_ ,” before Link brought their mouths together roughly. Everything Zelda could think to say flew right out of her head. 

Link licked his way into her mouth and Zelda thought she was going to melt right there. Melt right into his lap and turn into sea foam to be whisked away by the tide. Shivers wracked her frame despite the warm breeze around them as Link ran both of his hands down her body before snagging the waistband of her shorts easily. 

He drew them right off, leaving Zelda bare from the waist down and spread open wide, straddling his lap. She was fully exposed to the heavens and anyone that dared walk by their private slice of beach.

Before Zelda could say anything, exclaim in surprise or maybe senseless need, Link sunk his fingers into her naked hips and pulled her tight against him, grinding her pussy into his lap roughly. It was so similar to her own frequent daydreams Zelda didn’t even know if it was reality.

Then she felt a dull ache on her throat as Link’s lips moved there and he sucked, the sharp edges of his teeth barely teasing over the column of her neck. Zelda held on to his shoulders tight, barely focused enough to stay upright, let alone have an emotional heart-to-heart.

They necked like teenagers for so long that the sun almost disappeared under the horizon, dusk barely keeping a hold on the sky. Above them, the clouds unfolded a deep violet, with the stars barely peeking through. In the dim lighting, Zelda became much bolder, shifting to rock herself against Link’s hipbone leisurely, her hands tangling up in his soft, wild hair.

“Link…” She sighed out, head too fogged to think past the heat of his hands petting over her thighs.

Link suckled along her throat, pawing at the neckline of her shirt until it was stretched out of place so extremely it slipped right off her shoulders. As if he were conserving some of her modesty, he let the useless fabric hang around her torso before he was licking across her bared breast. Zelda felt the brush of his tongue across her nipple like electricity and then his teeth ever so gently scraped against the sensitive skin. In his wake, he left tender, hot places that she hoped would bloom into full-fledged marks. During the courting and engagement, they never allowed themselves to leave visible marks. She wanted to be covered in kiss marks and to leave her own across Link’s strong shoulders. 

To do that she would have to get some of Link’s clothes off as well. Zelda leaned back, coincidentally pressing her hips solidly against the hot, hard swell in his shorts and gasping hard. She yanked at the fabric of his shirt, peeling it over his head and tossing it off somewhere behind them. 

By then, all Zelda could do was pant and sigh Link’s name, whether he could hear her or not. She gripped her hands into the tense, gold muscles of his back and kissed along his jaw, with every intention of giving some marks of her own. 

Link’s hands migrated to cradle her skull and lower back and began to dip forward. Zelda knew this exact move from their various rendezvous. Link was trying to rest her on her back and nestle his way between her thighs and Zelda wasn’t having it tonight.

She pitched a proper fit in his arms, throwing her head back and forth. “No, no, no.” She gasped out and then realized maybe that wasn’t the right delivery if Link’s frozen shock was anything to go by. Zelda felt guilty for scaring him, but it was so hard to think. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay, I just don’t want to do that tonight.” A hot blush burned across her cheeks. “I want to do it together. I want you to feel good too.”

The gaped panic cleared from his face almost immediately. Instead, something hot and bold and hungry flashed through his eyes. Link went from a sweet, cautious boy to a man so wild he was almost a beast in such a short time that it almost gave Zelda whiplash. She felt kind of lightheaded as he grinned at her in the low light, eyes glinting like a predator’s in the woods. Was it possible to pass out from arousal?

He gestured a hand up at her, looking positively feral, and signed, “ _ I have an idea.” _

It took a minute to twist themselves into position, but, once they settled in, Zelda almost wished she kept her mouth shut. Link was spread out below her, back on the blanket. Zelda was laid out on top of him, but with her knees cushioned in soft sand padding next to his head. Her ass was directly in front of him, pussy waving in his face like a castle banner. Link took handfuls of her ass and pulled her down those final few inches to his mouth.

Not to be outdone, Zelda tried to find the perfect place to settle her weight and make use of her own hands to work Link’s shorts down low enough to get his cock out. She pursued her lips gently against the head and tried to focus past Link’s clever tongue enough to move her own. To bring him pleasure too. This was similar enough to the conversation she wanted to have in the first place (while also not being close in the  _ slightest _ ).

As both of them used their mouths, Zelda was shocked by the stark tanlines she could see. They had spent so many days out in the sun recently. Link was usually a sunkissed gold from his outdoor habits. Even in the low light of the fire or maybe because of it, the skin of below his navel looked almost milky in comparison to the burnished bronze of his rippling abs. She tried to stifle a giggle into the hot skin of Link’s cock at the thought of how her own lines must look across her ass. 

Zelda knew she failed when Link pulled back but figured she forgiven when he craned his neck up to brush a kiss against her plush backside. Maybe against the exact place where lily-white deepened to a soft gold. She felt him press another kiss against the inside of her thigh and suck open-mouthed against the skin there as he had to the tender skin of her throat, leaving marks here. Zelda laved her tongue up the column of Link’s dick, unsure of how to approach at this angle, but eager nonetheless. 

After the crease of her thigh felt as sore and tender as her neck, Link moved back pressing one more kiss right into her very center before flicking his tongue teasingly out against her clit. She was so damp from excitement and the grinding earlier 

that his lips smacked wetly against her cunt. 

Zelda curled one of her hands around his shaft and figured they could have their talk later after they both climaxed. They were married for, Hylia’s sake. He couldn’t avoid her forever.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I am not deaf or mute or have any other disability that would lead to me using sign language in any form. I am simply trying to represent a group of people in a place where I think they could. If anyone with knowledge of deafness, hard-of-hearing, or sign language has any commentary that could improve my work, I would love to hear it and try my best to implement it. If this offends you in any way, please message me and we can talk about it before anything gets intense. Thank y'all!
> 
> I just want to say that you are in NO obligation to have penetrative sex or any other sex acts with people you are in a relationship with. Sex is not proof of love and love is not a prerequisite for sex. Any sex you have should be after a thorough conversation where all parties are absolutely sure how the other feels. I only use miscommunication as a conflict in this story because I don't want to think about anything serious (y'know like the impending plot of Hyrule Warriors....). Please don't use fanfiction as a manual for relationships in real life.


End file.
